


i don't even need to change the world

by ackermanx



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 04:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16695745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackermanx/pseuds/ackermanx
Summary: (i'll make the moon shine just for your view)because mitsuki just wants to take care of iori and give him what he deserves





	i don't even need to change the world

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asterions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterions/gifts).



> alright i'll admit the summary makes this fic sound more dramatic than it actually is uh sorry bout th
> 
> also no emil i wont stop writing things for u . strums guitar . b

Mitsuki's logic is this: if Iori cannot and will not spoil himself, then it's Mitsuki's job as his older brother to do the spoiling for him.

Which is why he's up at the ass crack of dawn, downing an entire cup of freshly brewed coffee and tying an apron around his waist. It's like all the stars have aligned to give him the perfect opportunity - Yamato, being the troublesome old drunkard that he is, won't be up until at least 1pm; the fridge and cupboards are all well stocked; Iori has just been offered (and has accepted) a chance to have his own solo song.

 _It's just like Iori, isn't it,_  Mitsuki thinks with a combination of fondness and annoyance. _To deliver news like that with such a casual tone and then not understand why we're all so excited over it._

He slams a cupboard door with more force than necessary. Winces immediately after.

...Maybe it would be a good idea to start cooking instead of sitting here and stewing until everyone else wakes up.

The routine is so familiar to Mitsuki that he could do it in his sleep. Flour, water, mix, adjust. Oil the pans, let the oil heat up. Spread out the flour mixture on the pan, shape it, flip it over when it feels right.

"Nii-san? You're already awake?"

Startled, Mitsuki accidentally spills oil over himself, completely missing the pan. "Iori!" he beams in no particular direction, _where's the towel I could've sworn it was here a few minutes ago_. "Good morning! I figured that Yamato-san wouldn't be awake, so I decided to make breakfast instead."

A white object is waved in front of Mitsuki's face, stopping him dead in his tracks. He looks up sheepishly and meets Iori's half-asleep gaze, the corners of his own eyes crinkling up in what he hopes isn't too much of an embarrassed smile.

"Were you looking for this?" Iori says in a completely deadpan voice and with one eyebrow raised. He's holding up a small square of white cloth up to Mitsuki's face with one hand - and then, before Mitsuki can even react, Iori steals the rest of Mitsuki's coffee with his other hand.

"Hey! When did you even - give those _back_ , dummy," Mitsuki laughs. He snatches both the cloth and his coffee cup back, wipes off his arm, and spoons out some new oil (in the right place this time). "So what's got you up and running at seven in the morning on a weekend?"

Iori steeples his fingers and hums into them, seemingly taking the question seriously. "Nothing much," he replies, but _really_. Mitsuki can see his eyes tracking Mitsuki's every move, possibly trying to figure out what he's cooking before he finishes.

With one final flourish, Mitsuki finishes his labor of love (with his back solidly turned towards Iori, blocking his view out of playful spite).

He clears his throat.

Iori's eyebrow climbs higher.

"May I present to you," Mitsuki intones in the most dramatic voice he can muster, "The chef's special, completely on the house."

Spinning around in a perfect half-circle (dance lessons could come in handy at strange times), he slides a covered plate in front of where Iori's seated at the nearest table and snatches the napkin off of the top.

"...Pancakes." Iori says slowly. "In the shape of - ?"

"That one Usamimi Friends character you like, yes. Like it? I think I got pretty close to what it's supposed to look like, but...well, you know how ears are always so hard to mirror, and - "

"But why?"

"Why the ears? Or why all this?"

"Why..."

Iori gestures vaguely at the table in front of him, and Mitsuki softens immediately at the genuinely lost expression on his brother's face. "Your solo, dummy," he says as gently as possible. "Don't think we forgot about it that easily."

"It's - it's really not that big of a deal, Nii-san, I don't know why you're insisting on - "

"Hey, Iori."

Mitsuki watches as Iori opens his mouth, closes it, and grudgingly look up to make eye contact with Mitsuki. But all that Mitsuki does is smile, as brightly as he can, and reach out to ruffle Iori's hair.

"You deserve it, okay? You do a great job out there. Now let me do my job as a big brother and take care of you for a bit."

It takes a few moments of silence and more glances torn between Mitsuki and the pile of pancakes on the table, but Iori eventually relents and smiles, even if only just the slightest bit.

"Fine. But only if you'll take some of this too, Nii-san. You should get to enjoy some of your own hard work."

Mitsuki's smile only grows bigger upon hearing that. Struck by a sudden idea, he reaches for a pancake, rolls it up, and holds it in the air like a lightstick.

"A toast, then? To you and the future of IDOLiSH7!"

For a split second it looks like Iori isn't going to play along - then he reaches for a pancake as well and tentatively holds it up, and Mitsuki taps their pancakes together as if they were wineglasses.

"...A toast. To...me and to the future of IDOLiSH7."

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on twitter @axlotlols im in love with hoshimeguri


End file.
